1

Four shadowy figures were sneaking through an ancient and crumbling castle, avoiding any contact with the undead that patrolled the long-forgotten halls and corridors.

“Who designed this place? A maze-maker?” Flavia grumbled.

“Well, mages built it, not architects…” Luftar explained.

“Less talking, more walking,” Egon snapped. He was clearly not in his usual talkative mood.

The wolfman was leading the group, using his keen senses to find the way. He had a sword and a shield in his hands. He was followed by the catwoman with her staff and the elf with her daggers. Covering their rear was the human with a fountain-pen-like wand, which crackled with cyan and blue electricity from the lightning bolt spell he had prepared. So far, none of them had to use their weapons.

“Looks like that storage room is empty; let’s rest there,” Luftar whispered.

They entered the room and closed the door behind them. Egon released his spell with a sigh of relief. Onyeya twirled her staff above her head and several small glowing balls of amber light started floating in the room. It was filled with old wooden crates, which were covered in fragile spiderwebs.

“Uhm,” Egon frowned.

“Huh?” The Head Shaman looked puzzled.

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Luftar assured her.

“D-d-did I do something wrong?” Onyeya looked worried.

“Please, don’t worry—” her Leader comforted her.

“When you cast a spell,” Flavia interrupted him, “it leaves a trace. A spell trace. Which a trained wizard can detect even a month later. And maybe even tell who exactly casted it. I thought all magic-users knew this?”

“I do, but you all said this place is abandoned,” Onyeya panicked and almost hit Egon with her staff.

“Well, it should be, but nobody can actually check it,” the human remarked.

“Oww,” the catwoman whimpered softly.

“Quiet!” Flavia’s daggers appeared in her hands in a blink of an eye.

Everyone tensed up and looked where she was pointing with one of her daggers. Slowly, from behind one of the dusty crates, tiny white whiskers appeared. A second later, a little gray mouse emerged.

“Hey,” Egon whispered, while squeezing Luftar’s shoulder. “Fetch, boy, fetch!”

Onyeya gasped, as the wolfman raised his sword over the human’s head… and gently tapped Egon’s head with the hilt.

“Not a good time for casual racism, Circle Mage,” he scolded.

Everyone relaxed for the second time.

“What is this place?” Onyeya asked.

“Some old storage room,” Flavia said as she rummaged through the crates, “mostly just blank paper and dried ink…”

The Shaman peeked behind the elf’s shoulder, curious about the contents. Luftar gestured to Egon to come close to him, who was rubbing the spot where he was hit, and then whispered to him:

“You saw it too? On the teleportation platform.”

“Yes. The teleportation-gemstone is barely used, if at all. Traces of the last teleportation are faint—three weeks at the low end.”

“Maybe the culprits—” Luftar began to share his theory.

“Exactly. Maybe.” Egon interrupted him, “See, recently the State became extremely strict about teleportation-gemstone cutting. You need a license, and they only issue one each year, yadda yadda. Plus, the Collegium still hasn’t figured out how to teleport with the gemstone, so someone had to deliver it here.”

“Which means?..”

“…That we’re dealing with someone who has resources. At least financial, maybe political. Might be more than we can chew, but with those nice fangs of yours—”

“Don’t,” the beastfolk Leader sighed softly.

2

The group had been wandering through the abandoned castle for hours now, much longer than they had expected. The elf and the wolfman decided to scout ahead and look for an exit, as they were the fastest and the stealthiest of the four. The human and the catwoman stayed behind in a tiny room that seemed to have been a closet once. They sat in awkward silence for a while, but when their friends did not return after some time, Onyeya broke the ice:

“Earl Numis, how can you be so calm? This place is so… sinister.”

“Just Egon,” he said with a friendly smile. “And I completely agree, the room service in this place is not up to par. Though, I can’t help but feel sorry that we don’t have time to properly investigate this place. Surely, the Necromancers left some juicy secrets behind!”

The room was dark, except for a thin beam of light that came from a slightly ajar door. They had decided not to cast any light orbs, just in case. The corridor outside was dimly lit by the moon, which was about to set. Egon decided to start another conversation:

“What are your thoughts on necromancy, Onyeya?”

“Never tried and don’t want to. And my mother always said it was evil.”

“That’s a common opinion among the common folk. I can’t say I always see eye to eye with every Necromancer out there, however—”

The catwoman’s ear twitched. She quickly put her finger on Egon’s lips to silence him. And then hastily pulled it back, realizing she had been impolite to someone she met two days ago.

“I hear something,” she whispered. “Someone is… crying. A woman. It’s coming from that direction,” she pointed and started walking out, but Egon grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Let’s not do what you’re about to do.”

Onyeya shrugged him off and gave him a strict look:

“What if it’s Flavia?”

“That’s definitely not Flavia. The last time she cried was… hmm, can’t remember; but that’s beside the point. Let’s stay here, wait for our friends, and upon their return check on the crying lady.”

“What if she needs help?”

“Come on, a creepy voice in a creepy castle… HEY!”

Onyeya ignored him and ran towards the source of the sound.

***

Luftar sighed dramatically and shook his head in disbelief.

“Again?” Flavia’s voice sounded defeated.

“Again,” the wolfman confirmed grimly. “Whoever sealed the castle from the outside spent a great deal of time and energy on this. They really didn’t want anyone—or anything—escaping.”

They were at the ground floor of the castle, standing next to a tall wooden door. The door was closed, covered with faintly glowing runes and deep claw marks.

“Can’t you just blast through it?”

“Not exactly. It’ll take almost half of my mana. You see, I never bothered to learn any ‘magical lockpicking’ so to speak. The only way I can do this is, just like you said, with a big old blast. Which will alert every zombie in the vicinity and that’s a battle we’re not very likely to win. In conclusion, the answer is no.”

“Oof,” Flavia twisted her mouth unhappily, “that stinks. Maybe Egon can do it? I’ve seen him open magically locked doors.”

“From the outside he would be able to, I’m sure of it.”

“Right… So, what options do we have left? The catacombs?”

Luftar grimaced at that suggestion.

“When we approached the hatch and opened it, I sensed something… dreadful down there. There’s no point in continuing this mission if any one of us is hurt.”

Flavia looked genuinely surprised.

“Wow, what happened to the hot-headed wolfman, who scaled city walls just to impress the ladies? Did something—”

“HELP!” someone screamed from the levels above.

***

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Egon panted as he caught up to Onyeya. She was standing on top of a door that was torn off and lying on the floor, and peering into the pitch-black interior of a room where the cries were heard. He took out his wand and gently pushed the catwoman behind him.

“Egon, I… can’t see inside…” she whispered.

“Well, that’s Witch Dark for you,” he murmured, “hope I won’t regret this. You know the saying, if it quacks like an obvious trap…”

He slowly and carefully stepped inside with Onyeya following in his footsteps. She was holding him by the hem of his clothes with one hand; her staff was in the other hand.

“If this place was truly abandoned years ago,” he whispered back over his shoulder, “and someone still has enough mana to create a magical darkness this big… That’s formidable.”

The weeping grew louder and louder.

“There!” Onyeya pointed into the darkness.

Egon moved his head around to get a better sense of his surroundings and then he saw it. A woman was lying under a pile of rubble with her face down. Her clothes looked badly torn and covered in blood. The body below her torso was hidden by the rubble.

“Are you hurt?!” Onyeya shouted at the woman.

Egon looked back angrily at the Head Shaman. The crying immediately stopped. The woman twitched a little bit. Then some more. It was as if she was not made out of bones and flesh, but out of some sort of… gel.

“Huh?..” Onyeya blurted out.

The woman’s body was swiftly raised into the air, as if she was an appendage of some gigantic creature.

“Look out!” Egon yelled, as he pushed the catwoman away from the slimy tentacles that were shooting towards them from the rubble.

Onyeya fell down and, as she looked up, first she saw the tentacles grab Egon and lift him by the legs into the air, which made him drop his wand. Then she saw a quiver run through the wall behind the rubble, as hundreds of eyes started opening. The entire room was moving, as if it was a single organism… an abomination.

“Egon!” she darted towards the wand and grabbed it.

“Get back! Get away!!”

“I can’t! And your wand,” she tried to hand it over, but the tentacles lifted him too high.

“Get the hell away or you’ll be—ARGH!”

One of the tentacles punched him in the gut. Onyeya stopped dead in her tracks, as she saw a spark in the Wizard’s eyes. She understood what was needed of her. She turned back and ran as fast as she could towards the door, clutching her staff and the wizard’s wand. Her feline reflexes helped her dodge every tentacle that tried to catch her.

“Hello there, handsome,” Egon grinned, as the monster was moving him closer and closer to what used to look like an injured woman’s body, but was now slowly splitting in half and forming a gargantuan toothless mouth.

He blinked and images of flames started growing inside of his pupils. A moment later his entire body was engulfed in flames, burning the tentacles, forcing the horrific creature to let him go. It was not destroyed, merely slowed down, but it was enough for Egon to make a run for it.

“HELP!” he heard Onyeya’s voice near the door. When he reached it, he saw a group of zombies dragging her away.

***

“Why? Why won’t you die?!” Flavia fruitlessly slashed at the zombies, as they kept coming.

“This is taking too long!” Luftar shouted, as he struggled to move through a horde of undead elves and humans. “Flavia! I’ll lift my shield and you can jump over them! There’s enough clearance above!”

She positioned herself behind his back.

“If this is some sort of heroic self-sacrificing crap—”

“No! I will survive this! I didn’t come this far to—”

“Gotcha,” she climbed on his shoulders. “Do it on the count of… argh, no time, do it now!”

The wolfman raised his shield, while simultaneously pushing his attackers back with a spell. The elf stepped on the shield, and with a second step she vaulted into the air. She soared over the crowd and gracefully landed behind their ranks. In front of her was an obese zombie with three heads, six arms and two distorted elephantine legs. After a few flashes of her daggers, the total number of limbs and heads this creature has was exactly zero.

“You good?” Luftar roared through the crowd.

“Yes!” Flavia yelled back, dodging the falling hulk’s body. “Don’t die!”

She ran through the halls and corridors, mostly dodging, rather than attacking. There was no time to waste. She reached a set of stairs that led to the level where the scream for help came from. A bunch of undead were descending the stairs. They saw her and she saw them.

“Make way, I’m coming through!” she yelled at them.

They pointed their weapons at her and she charged at them. When there was barely any space left between them, Flavia jumped and used the narrow walls on the stairs to bounce in a zigzag pattern over the former warriors. All they could do was follow her movements with what was left of their eyes. When she reached the top, she gently pushed the last two undead down, which made the whole group fall and tumble down.

“I’m almost out of mana! Use a combat spell!” a familiar male voice echoed through the walls. It came from the same direction as a non-stop barrage of spells and sounds of dying zombies.

“I… I don’t know any!” a struggling female voice replied.

“Argh!” Egon was frustrated beyond belief.

“Let me go, you monsters!” Onyeya was breaking into screaming.

Flavia rushed to the catwoman’s aid, when she heard her human friend chanting a prayer. Confusion covered the elf’s face.

“…as you came back from the dead, so go back where you belong. Begone!” Egon clapped his hands and the walls were lit by a gentle white light. A low hum rang through the corridor. All the undead around stopped and then quickly… turned to dust.

“You… you did it!” The Head Shaman rushed to her savior. “You saved me! Now please, let us find Leader Luftar and Re—Are you okay?”

“That…” Egon was in complete shock, “was… the weakest…”

He was looking at his hands in disbelief. When he raised his gaze, he saw that Flavia was already standing behind Onyeya. He made a weak smile and nodded, when a loud sploosh and the screams of dozens of voices came from behind his back.

“What is that?!” Flavia said in a crushed tone.

“A danger in distress…” Egon replied, “Let’s not go there—”

A loud, low-pitched pop was heard from the levels below. At the same moment, the monster turned a corner and was now in the group’s line of sight. It was a dark-gray gel-like substance that had faces of countless people embedded on its body. It started flowing towards the group, when the stonework around it started violently shaking. It slowed down, when it realized that the floor below it was collapsing. The walls followed suit.

“Run.” Egon confidently commanded.

The three of them ran away from the collapsing floor. Egon tripped, almost falling down, but Flavia caught him by the hand. What was left of the floor was only a minuscule platform, barely enough for three people to stand on. When the dust settled, they saw a way out—a gaping hole in the castle wall that spanned several levels. The first rays of the morning sun forced them to cover their eyes with their hands.

“There!” Onyeya blurted, pointing at the debris.

Near the bottom of the hole in the castle wall, Luftar lay motionless.

“I guess that was more than half of his mana,” Flavia concluded.

3

The bonfire crackled, as it radiated a soothing warmth. The teleportation beacon that loomed over the horizon was the only reminder of Bloodstone Castle. The tiny camp was hastily set up on the edge of a forest, somewhere between what was left of the castle and the remains of Skullhorn. The sun was setting.

“Uugh…” Luftar groaned quietly.

“Don’t get up, you big ol’ dimwit,” Egon suggested gently.

“For how… long have I been out?” The wolfman tried to raise his torso, but quickly fell back onto the rag he was lying on.

“Since the sunrise. Since your… ka-boom,” he gestured.

“Aah… Where are the girls?”

“Looking for food in the forest. Used the last drops of my mana on carrying your furry tail to here. Best I can do ‘till tomorrow morning is sit. And eat. And sleep. You know, the things I’m best at!”

He melancholically grinned. Both of them chuckled.

“Ah! Leader Luftar, you’re finally awake!” Onyeya exclaimed, as she dropped her staff and rushed to hug him with tears of relief in her eyes.

“Oof,” her hug was a bit too strong for him, “Glad to see you both.”

Flavia emerged from the treeline with three rabbits on a rope.

“Stew!” she exclaimed proudly, raising the rabbits above her head.

“Yay,” the rest of the group replied with varying levels of enthusiasm. All four of them were hurt, bruised and had a couple of broken bones here and there. However, Onyeya was able to heal the most serious injuries, which genuinely impressed Egon and Flavia.

***

After a while, the stew was made and eaten. Everyone was looking at the bonfire.

“There are barely any animals here,” Flavia noted. “Is this because of the tainted land you mentioned, Luftar?”

“Most likely,” he replied. “This started about a year or so ago. Hunters came back with less and less game. When we visited the tribes up north, they said they had the same issue.”

“What is the nature of this ‘taint’?” Egon asked.

“Hard to say; the word itself doesn’t mean anything, it’s basically a catch-all term for anything bad that’s happening to the lands,” Luftar explained. “I’m not a scholar; I was never cut out for that. Being a Battle-Mage is all I know.”

“And Leader,” Onyeya added. “I would’ve—I mean, we would’ve never made it without you, Leader.”

“What’s your take on this, Head Shaman?” Flavia tossed some twigs into the fire.

“If mother was here, she would’ve given a good answer,” the catwoman shrugged. “Best I can determine is that something’s clearly wrong, but that’s pretty much the extent of it. I asked the Elders if it might be a recurring phenomenon of some sort, but they don’t remember anything similar. Sometimes I really wish we kept more robust records of our past, but it seems word of mouth is the best we’ve got for now. It bugs me that I know so much about healing living things, but I can’t tell what’s happening to greater nature—”

She noticed that everyone was paying great attention to her monologue.

“That was so insightful, you are truly wonderful,” Luftar complimented her.

The catwoman blushed intensely and hid her face behind her lifted knees.

“Let’s be realistic,” Egon stated. “Let’s not take on a third global objective. First priority is investigating what happened at Skullhorn, then finding a source of food for Mistfall. The latter recently became harder, considering we have about fifty extra mouths to feed.”

“No way!” Flavia gasped. “You’re not putting something magic-related on the number one spot? It’s clearly not the Wizard Egon that I know! Onyeya, you were there to witness—maybe the gel abomination somehow cloned him? And the actual one is still inside Bloodstone?”

“I am certain that—” the catwoman started replying, but then immediately started intensely visually examining the human.

“No need to scrutinize my appearance, it’s really just yours truly. Or perhaps you do want a second me, my dear maid?”

“Nah, one is already a handful, milord,” she pouted.

“I’m… too tired to come up with something witty,” he smiled. “Jokes aside. Sorry for what happened back there. I promise I’ll be even more careful.”

The two beastfolk watched as the elf silently rose to her feet, approached the human, and gave him a zippy smooch on the cheek. The catwoman blushed even more and furtively looked at the wolfman, who was beaming as he was looking at his old friends.

***

Everyone went to sleep. Flavia volunteered to keep watch, even though she was the only one who could do it: the men were exhausted and mana-less, and the Head Shaman’s usefulness in a fight was yet to be proven.

“Can’t sleep?” the elf asked, while staring into the woods.

“Sorry,” Onyeya replied. “May I ask if you’re still mad at Ea—Egon?”

“Oh yes. Sigh. Not the first time he pulled something like this.”

“Please, I just want you to understand,” the catwoman said in an apologetic tone, “I was the one who ran away and he just—”

“No, that’s not it. See, you can merely wave a new type of magic in his face and he’ll go after it… ‘to research it’,” she said mockingly.

“You two are so different, yet it seems you fit each other so… well.”

“True. Well, a decade together does that to you. But sometimes I can’t help but wonder… What if that fateful day… never happened?”